


Moments of Devotion

by UmbralStars



Series: Those Who Weave Fate [4]
Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Henriette loves her kids, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Líf Needs a Hug, Nonbinary Summoner | Eclat | Kiran, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:21:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29279883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UmbralStars/pseuds/UmbralStars
Summary: 'Devotion' can mean so many different things to so many different people. On Askr's Day of Devotion various kinds of devotion are explored.a.k.a: Valentine's Day doesn't just have to be about romance (though it can be).
Relationships: Alfonse/Summoner | Eclat | Kiran, Líf & Queen Henriette, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Series: Those Who Weave Fate [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2149731
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	Moments of Devotion

**Author's Note:**

> Líf runs away from the festivities.
> 
> Henriette just wants her son to know he's loved.

_Strange isn't it? That I get to live this half-life here in the past?_

A gentle wind danced over the streets of Askarel. Birds sang in the trees warmed by the light of the sun. The streets were filled with people. Happy, joy filled people. This sky isn't grey. This land is not quiet. He knew these sights. He knew this festival. But none of this was his. The last Day of Devotion Alfonse celebrated had been when he was 25 years old and he proposed to the love of his life; just a few months before he lost his sister. Just a few years before he and the world died.

Líf screwed his eyes shut electing to retreat further back into his hood. This was too much. Whatever those Gods were planning, why did it involve him living here once more? To be surrounded by everything he failed to protect and could never hold dear again? It doesn't matter that this is the past. It doesn't matter he doesn't belong to time itself anymore. That his home, his loved ones, who never were in that false Goddess' wench hands to begin with, may be something forever lost to the unraveling tapestry of fate. This is still too much.

The fallen king tried to bring his breathing back down to normal. He couldn't complete his mission, whatever it was, if he was reduced to a shameful mess of trauma. No. He had to watch them. Watch them and wait. Of course it would help if he didn't run from the others in the first place.

Líf groaned. He dragged a hand down his face, careful not to disturb the carefully placed veil, and took in a deep breath. He didn't need to breath, but it was relaxing nonetheless. Líf carefully adjusted the rose around his wrist. Sharena had been so happy when he accepted the gift she worked oh-so hard on weaving together and when he promised to join in on the festivities.

He tried.

He really did try. Outside of doing it because he _knew_ he had too, he really did try. But he just couldn't bring himself to stay with them. It hurt. He hated to admit how weak he truly was, but everything hurt. He just felt so _tired._

"Ah! There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you!"

Líf's eyes snapped open. He placed his full attention onto the painfully familiar voice. Queen Henriette was looking down at him from where he sat on the bench with the same gentle, love filled gaze he remembered from so long ago. "What are you doing here, Queen Henriette?" he asked.

The queen mother's smile faltered. It was so brief he barely realized it happened. Líf almost looked away in shame. He knew why there was sadness lurking just behind her kind green eyes. He also knew she would never force him, and for that he was thankful. Still she drew a little closer, "I was looking for you Líf. When you disappeared I was worried something had happened and wanted to come check on you."

He bit back the cruel words of disregard that instantly bubbled up in his throat. He would much rather let Alfonse run him through with Fólkvangr again than ever be callous towards his mother-No. _Not_ his mother. Líf couldn't let himself fall into that trap. So he just sat in silence.

Henriette sighed. She made a move as if she was going to approach further, but seemed to rethink the move last second. She looked at him with utter sincerity, "Would you mind terribly if I sat next to you Líf?"

He considered the question. Did he mind? He shook his head and moved over to give her space to sit down. It wouldn't hurt to indulge the queen he supposed. He could always get up and walk away if he needed to. He knew she wouldn't force him to stay. Henriette's gaze instantly softened as she softly voiced her gratitude and sat down next to him.

They sat in silence.

Líf kept his gaze ahead on the crowd in front of them. Couples, families, groups of friends all passed through the stalls surrounding the main festival square. He didn't see anyone he immediately recognized, and thankfully no one decided it was a good time to approach the beloved queen mother. Ever so cautious, Líf cast his eyes over towards Henriette.

Her hands were folded against her lap. Her gaze was calm as she looked over the same sight. Líf felt a pang in his chest. She looked so familiar with those flowers in her hair and in white-gold dress she wore. Distantly, he remembered clinging to his mother's dress as her and father gently swayed to the music with him between them at this very same festival. His eyes stung.

"Shouldn't you be with your family?" Líf whispered unable to stop himself.

Henriette simply shook her head a fond expression crossing her face. "No. Alfonse and Kiran seemed to want some time to themselves, and Sharena and Commander Anna are showing Princess Veronica around the festival," she said with a hint of amusement. She paused for a moment. Her eyes, serious and imploring but so open, landed on him again, "Unless, you are truly uncomfortable with me being here?"

Again, Líf considered his feelings. Again, he shook his head. Part of him, too much of him, didn't want to push Henriette away. He already lost his mother once, he selfishly didn't want to lose her again even if she wasn't truly _his_ mother. She smiled at him. Her eyes crinkling with oh so much affection it left his head spinning. "I-" he started.

Líf didn't know what to do, what to say. Whatever amount of his childhood, of _Alfonse,_ that was left begged him to reach out to her. His chest tightened in confusion and grief. Why? Why did he yearn to reach out to her so badly? Why after all these years? After he failed his own mother so horribly? "I just don't-" his throat felt constricted as if he genuinely was choking on his words.

Henriette's expression shifted to one of concern. Genuine concern. Not mocking pity. It was the same concern she had when he was a child and crawled into her and father's bed after a nightmare. The same concern when Zacharias disappeared and his world shattered. The same concern when he became king and everything began to fall apart around them. "Why?" Líf's eyes were burning, he hated that his voice came out so broken, "Why are you choosing to be here with _me?_ I don't- I can't-"

He let his eyes fall to his lap. His body shook. His shaking hands curled together in his lap. Líf screwed his eyes shut. His jaw clenching so tight that his teeth ached in pain. Everything was too bright. Too loud. He's so so tired.

He froze as a hand placed itself on his shoulder. It wasn't gripping, but he still knew it was there. Soft and and comforting, but there was familiar strength there. Something that told him 'Everything will be alright' and begged him to let her in. He could've, should've, pulled away the second he felt Henriette touch him, but something in his chest just shattered further. Líf's arms wrapped protectively around himself. His body shuddered as the first broken, childish sob passed his lips and glowing blue tears fell onto his lap.

Sucking in a pained breath, Henriette closed the gap between them and wrapped Líf in a hug. He near instantly melted into her offered compassion. Every wall he built up he let come crashing down. Childish as it was...he just wanted his mother. He wanted her to hold him again, so he could believe just for one second everything was ok. Henriette let him cry into her shoulder just holding him as if he was something precious. As if he was something she wanted to protect. The fallen king's voice only broke more.

She only pulled back only once his sobbing quieted to short shakey breathes. His mother's hands cupped his face and wiped away his tears with care Líf hadn't felt from another person in a long time. The small action alone almost broke him down into another fit of sobs.

"Líf," Henriette's voice was soft, "Of course I want to be here with you. I-Forgive me if I come across too forward, but you are still my son. I care about you just as much as I do Alfonse and Sharena."

Líf sucked in a pained breath. Her eyes were so _sincere._ He knew she meant every word she said. His mother would never be so cruel as to lie to him. This was too much. Far too much. "But I'm not! I may have been Alfonse once, but I-" his voiced hitched again; the burning in his red eyes coming back full force, "I'm not. I'm not him anymore! I can't be..." He prayed she couldn't hear the uncertainty in his voice.

She said nothing; only wiped the tears from his face again and pulled him back down to rest his head on her shoulder. Tentatively he wrapped his arms around her middle. She didn't pull away. "Even if, as you say, are truly not him anymore, you were once. And that makes you my son no matter what," Henriette said against his ear, "I don't know everything you've been through, dear. I can never know that. But I still love you and care for you as if you were my own all along. You don't need to replace your mother; I just hope you would be ok with me caring about you."

She stated it with such determination Líf felt like he could believe it. Felt like he should let himself believe it. His mother was gone, but maybe, just maybe, he could let himself have this. Even if just for this moment. If just for this festival. Henriette slid the hood off his head then ran her fingers softly through his hair. Líf let his eyes drift closed.

They stayed wrapped up on the bench until Líf's breathing finally evened out and the worst of the storm passed. He felt...light. Much lighter than he had in months. He finally pushed away from Henriette, and she deftly brought a handkerchief to his face to wipe away the remnants of his tears. She was smiling again with more warmth than even the sun above them could give. Lif felt himself smile back, even if she couldn't see it. She stood, smoothed out her gown, and held out her hand, "Do you want to go find Sharena and Veronica?"

He nodded and took her hand. Those Gods could wait. His pain filled memories could wait. He offered the queen mother his arm as they began to walk back toward the square and she took it without hesitation. "We...are not going to find King Alfonse and Kiran?" he asked dubiously.

She chuckled softly before giving him a conspiratorial wink, "I think those two should take all the time they need. They'll find us when they want to."

Lif sighed. There wasn't any bitterness or anger. Just knowledge and understanding with his former self. Henriette laughed at his reaction, and he couldn't help the fond chuckle which passed his lips.

Maybe he could keep trying.

**Author's Note:**

> Líf gets one breakdown...as a treat.
> 
> So obviously this is part of an AU where Líf gets sent to be a spy for the Gods he mentions in his and Thrasir's conversation and at the end of Book 4. This is the same Líf from Book 3 and mostly everyone knows he's Alfonse. We all got it? Good.
> 
> Líf is honestly such a sad and fascinating character to me. He really wants back everything he's lost, but just seems to resigned to the idea that even if he gets his loved ones back it won't matter for him. Which is honestly just...depressing. He's working for these Gods, but also is constantly trying to find a way to fight them if need be as if he's waiting for the other shoe to drop. 
> 
> Líf gets portrayed in a lot of fics as being spiteful and completely off the rails (which he is don't get me wrong), but I do feel beneath all that cold exterior he's still our Alfonse at heart. I just wanted to write a fic that focuses on how depressed and lonely he genuinely feels, and what might happen if given the opportunity to be shown just a tiny bit of compassion. The man has lost so much; I don't blame him for lashing out.
> 
> I also made the choice to not include Thrasir in this part. I really just wanted to explore Líf and Henriette's mother-son dynamic without Thras being here. Exploring Líf and Thrasir's codependency would honestly make for a good work/chapter of its own, and it might be something I want to write about one day.
> 
> Also am I the first to write about Líf and Henriette? I genuinely want to know cause Líf interacting with the rest of his family is something I need more of in my life.


End file.
